


National Screw Up

by BryceWrites



Series: Broken Measures [5]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Anger, F/M, Fear, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Pancakes, Paper Crane, Tassel, White Bread, Writing Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 22:19:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3745447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BryceWrites/pseuds/BryceWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Juice goes to get milk and bread. Kelsi answers the phone, not expecting who's on the other line. Anger and fluff ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	National Screw Up

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a writing prompt; Write a scene that involves a loaf of white bread, a tassel, and a paper crane.

I stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. I’d been staring at the bread box for almost twenty minutes. I knew the time because I could see the clock on the microwave to the right of the wooden box that read ‘Bread’ in what used to be gold script if you closed the lid. The script had long faded to a nasty yellow, as I’d been informed Juice had gotten it from his mom when she died, who gotten it from her mom, who’d bought it at a garage sale for twenty cents.

For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why the bread box had become a family heirloom. Besides its solid construction from the 30’s or 40’s, I saw nothing spectacular about it. And inside the bread box, the only thing was a loaf of plain, white bread. It wasn’t necessarily the bread that made me mad, or stew the way I was now.

It was the fact he’d gone to get milk and bread. While he was gone to get milk and bread, a lady had called, asking for him by name. She told me she’d been stood up for their date and she wanted to talk to him about it. The bread box and its contents were really just a way of channeling my anger.

I’d asked him about it when he got home. If she’d been mistaken, gotten his name mixed up. He’d told me Tig or Bobby had probably just been trying to get him laid because he’d been grumpy all week. I wasn’t going to lie; I nearly lost my head at that. Tig was a real asshole, only doing this or that to stir the shit pot so he could lick the spoon. I couldn’t see Bobby doing a thing like that, especially since he knew I was Juice’s old lady. Bobby knew better than to go behind an old lady’s back.

A breeze blew in through the open window at my back, moving something on the wall. I turned, seeing Juice’s graduation tassel, held up by a tack in the wall, swaying back and forth. He was always so proud when he told the story of graduating high school, even with his criminal record. He’d been the first person, boy or girl, in three generations to graduate from school. He had a picture somewhere in the stupid house with his mom and him, while he was in his cap and gown, smiling like it was his last chance.

“Kelsi?” A quiet voice asked from another room. I didn’t know why he was looking for me. I hadn’t fuckin’ moved in the last almost thirty minutes except to breathe.  So I didn’t respond. But he looked hurt when he came around the corner and I turned my back to him, looking out the open window as I leaned against the sink.

“I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you. I’m sorry.” He said quietly.

More than some bitch calling, asking for him by his fucking first name, not even ‘Juice’, I was mad at his reaction. Juice and I, we both came from fucked up backgrounds. His step-dad had abused him back in Queens and my ex had nearly drove me to kill myself. But when I’d asked Juice asked this bitch calling, he’d reacted in anger, starting a yelling match I was sure the neighbors heard. It had lasted nearly fifteen minutes on its own.

“It wasn’t my fault some dumb ass bitch called, asking for some fucker name Juan Carlos.” I growled at him.

Juice gave a little laugh and I wanted to turn around and slap it off his face. But I knew it would do no good. We’d just go back to yelling then. His anger had a way of breaking out mine, the same way mine did to his. We were a perfect match, both full of piss and vinegar.

“Yeah, that Juan Carlos is a real fuck up.” He mumbled.

“Don’t have to fuckin’ tell me.” I murmured, crossing my arms over my chest to keep them close to me. Sucker punching the man would do me no good.

“Kelsi… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I know we do that to each other, just piss the other one off more. But we have fun… don’t we?” Juice asked, sounding small. I was reminded of myself at age six, when my mom had run off with some ex-con who promised her the world, leaving my dad with a steady job and me behind.

“Normally.” I related, knowing we had movie nights out the ass and I’d consumed more popcorn in the last three months than I had in my life before that point.

“Can we just both say what a national fuck up I am and skip to the makeup sex?” He asked, begging with me.

I leaned harder against the sink. I didn’t know. I was still mad. He hadn’t shown or said anything to prove he hadn’t set up a date with this anonymous bitch who called him by his real name. I needed reassurance that he was here for me and nobody else. I needed to know I was needed and wanted in this stupid house.

“I uh… I made you something.” He said and I could hear his big boots shuffling closer to me. He arm snaked around my shoulders and I paused, seeing the paper crane between his fingers. “Do you remember why I started making these?” He asked quietly.

In all honesty, I did. But I liked hearing him tell me the story, so I remained quiet.

“So uh… there was this girl, right? She was gorgeous, totally,” Juice let out a low whistle. “Just amazing. Head to toe, hair to feet. She was pretty, but she… she was a little broken. We clicked because we could see it, in each other, ya know?” He asked, but didn’t expect an answer. “I was trying to help her out, but I was really only being selfish when I asked her in move in with me. Yeah, she got a roof over her head, but I had somebody to fill the quiet. My head… it gets so loud sometimes…” He trailed off for a moment and I could feel the ache in my chest.

“But that first morning… That first morning I woke up to somebody else in the house, she was making chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. And you know what she said to me?” He asked.

I gave a nervous laugh to keep my tears from spilling out of my eyes. “I hope you like chocolate chip, because it’s all I made.”

“I knew, at that exact moment, I’d end up falling head over heels for her. And she told me she liked when people made stuff for her, even if it was a shitty drawing or a folded scrap of paper. She liked the fact that somebody might have thought of her enough to want to make something just for her, even if it looked like shit. So I started making paper cranes, because it was the only thing I could fold that looked like any fuckin’ kind of thing.” Juice said with a laugh, but I could feel his chest shake as he took a breath against my back.

I took the little paper crane from his fingers. The one he’d made just for me, not for some bitch named Bianca, who didn’t even know his name was Juice. He’d even sharpie colored the wings orange and pink, changing colors from one wing to another. “Thank you.” I mumbled, a tear leaking of my left eye.

His strong arms snaked around me, pulling me against him and I held tightly to his arm around my waist. He didn’t have to say anything else. I felt his love radiate off him in waves as he held me close. I squeezed my eyes shut, relishing his warmth against my back.


End file.
